A Weekly Dose of TMNT
by Anna James McGloffin
Summary: Updated for 2015. A series of one-shots and shorts from various TMNT universes. I write these during my lunchtime. Additional information, rating, characters, etc on each chapter. Happy New Year!
1. Tuesday

_For the prompt #139- "Help is on the way"_

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><p>"Don't move... please... don't move!" Words struggled through his breath, whistling and evaporating into the dusty air. "I'm a good guy. Just.. don't move!"<p>

The victim drowned in her own tears, gasping and holding on to the string of her life. "Please don't go.. I don't want you to go. What's your... n-name?"

He swallowed hard at first, but it dissolved in seconds. "Mikey."

"Where do you live, Mikey?" she winced from the blinding pain in her pinned legs. The demolished building around them creaked, sending frightful moans shaking through their bones.

"My own little dungeon," he chuckled but it came out more like a whimper. He didn't mean to do that to the helpless woman. "I help people. Sweet people like you."

"I'm going to die here, Mikey... I can.. can feel it. Don't leave me. P-please.."

Trembling, he reached for her hand, without a hesitation. Any consolation he had for her disappeared as he peered into her waning eyes.

She smeared the dirt and blood on her face against the bed of debris. "You're so.. warm..."

"Help is on the way! Hang in there!" He could hear voices in the far distance, echoing around them. The clogged, dense air made it difficult to see anything beyond their hands, but bits of light fell through the cracks.

She hummed and squeezed his hand. "My kitty.. she didn't want to leave me this m-morning." Her voice slipped and he strained to hear the rest of them. "'Mommy, don't go', she purred. I was in for a promotion today... today. My big day. September 11th.."

His soft, dying friend's grasp was easing; Mikey moved the hair out of her eyes and calmly said, "This is your still your big day."

"Kitty..."

"I'll take care of her.."


	2. High

_Prompt - "orphan". "Usagi Drop" is a delightfully cute anime that I'm currently watching and its ending song "High High High" provokes happy/fluffy feelings. All I can see is Mikey all the way through it. I needed another Shadow appearance, too._

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><p>"Roo, are you hot?" the young, sunbaked face squinted, cuddling his hand tight. "You get a heat stroke and die. I don't want you to die."<p>

Mikey, aka 'Roo', chuckled behind his thin scarf at his little friend. Winter was gracefully ending, and the birds whistled for the new season. "I am a little warm, but you know I can't walk around as I am, Shadow."

"Not fair," she pouted, her dark hair bouncing with her disapproval, "You'll die and I won't have anybody to walk with me or sing to me or let me eat ice cream before bedtime or—"

"Hey!" he playfully hissed, squishing her pink hat under his bulky hand, "you're not supposed to say that last one out loud!"

Shadow huffed under his hand and stomped her foot, "I'll be an orphan again!"

"You have your Mommy-April and Daddy. Don't be so sad."

"They're not the same as you.." the once-happy face turned dreadful, "And if they die, too?"

He silently bent down in front of her and signaled for the young Shadow to hop on his shell. Once she latched on and then wiped her nose with his scarf, toasty Roo bounced her and calmed the little worrywart. "Look up to the sky. Our voices can reach anywhere, as high as you want it." He pointed to the intense birds, fluttering around several blooming trees. "They live for the moment, and so should we."

For the rest of their journey, she didn't take her eyes off the Blue, and it gave Roo the opportunity to enjoy his moment.


	3. Bored

_Prompt 141- "Back to school". Donatello is described as a genius a lot, so I would think he would get bored in class quite often if he is not challenged._

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><p>The clock hands stormed his sensitive brain and his eyes wafted in warm tears. The world inside his own little messy bedroom was getting sicker and sicker. Thankfully, it all happened as they returned from a short, and secretive, summer break. Tomorrow was back to school, back to the basics, and back to a long tight schedule.<p>

The fifteen-year-old turtle boy sighed, leaned back in his chair, and blinked through feverish educational memories, all colored by the sound of his Master's authoritative voice.

"_Donatello! Open your eyes during literature!"_

_Literature just plain sucks, he mumbled to himself._

"_What was so important that you had to miss a lesson about the internet? I thought you liked computers."_

_Already know too much. Way too much._

"_Help Raphael with his geography since you finished your test early."_

_Well, that'll teach me for next time, won't it?_

"_Father, I want my own room. I can't study with Mikey and Raph playing Kick the Can. More like 'How Many Times Does the Can Land on the Geek's Face'?"_

Of course, there were a few conditions about gaining access to one's own room, and one of the most important was to show up for class on time, be active, and avoid snappy remarks to the less than stellar students. Don promised himself and Master that he would do better this time around, and he had already been a lackluster pupil. He couldn't miss tomorrow's session, even if Mother Nature unleashed her awesome fury on New York City.

So he guzzled down Nyquil and dreamed of chicken fries dancing in raincoats and telling the weather forecast for the next week on planet Saturn that had traded places with Earth on a bet that the Cardinals would win the finals.

The next morning, Donatello did nothing but get straight out of bed and fall into his bowl of soggy cereal at the table. He heard a bunch of rambling from his family, and Master demanded that no medicines were to be administered in the household without adult supervision after finding a half empty bottle of Nyquil on the counter.


	4. Mi Pueblo

_Prompt 142 - "Day to Day" :: inspired by my own goofy dreams._

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><p>"Sooooooooooooooooooo.. Donny picked me up to go to school, but I told him that I wanted to skip some afternoon classes and I told him to turn around and go back to April's so I can pick up my car. I don't know why I didn't take my car in the first place, but whatever! And then we stopped at a Mexican restaurant with a lunch crowd and some aliens that looked like a cross between a pig and an elephant kidnapped Donny! THE HORROR! And they wanted to hold Donny for ransom so they could get on <em>Jeopardy<em> and kiss Alex Trebek."

The room dripped in silence and hung on to Mikey's last word like their life depended on it. Splinter pleasantly sighed.

"What the hell does he smoke before he goes to bed?" Raph snapped, slapping some mayo on a beast of a sandwich that could turn around and devour him instead.

Donny typed away on his computer and idly commented, "Why would they want to kiss Trebek? Isn't he like 100 years old now?"

Mikey inhaled a glass of milk and leaned on Leo's head, eager to finish his dream, "And then I was walking down this weird government building and the Nazis started moonwalking across the..."

Another glorious day at the Hamato residence.


	5. Chillin'

_Prompt 143 "Hammer Time" - of course that automatically makes me think of Vanilla Ice. I did find Vanilla Ice fanfiction on here. Dead serious. It's not pretty, either._

_OH, WARNING: Lots of adult and street language in this one !_

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><p>"Get this, Raph!" a battle-torn hockey mask swiveled on the wobbly kitchen table, sending an empty beer bottle to its carpeted grave. "Tommy's down the street with a bunch of hoodrats trying to rap! They all sound like mating day at the zoo or somethin'!"<p>

Raphael finished a box of Lucky Charms and smashed it on the counter. "That little crackhead I busted last week? Tried to steal my bike with me on it?" Tiny bits of marshmallows fell on the floor, and he kicked them under the cabinets. "He should still be in the hospital sucking through a straw from both ends!"

"Naw, man, that little douche-y wanna-be-street kid that pushes buggies at Walmart! Calling himself 'Blade BAWS', like saying the 'boss' but with a-"

"Yeah, I know, Case!" The fridge door slammed so hard, it rattled its own contents and a couple of magnets fell off the door. "That little worm hit April's van with those damn buggies and then argued with her. I would have taken care of him but I had the flu."

"That sucked!" Casey flopped on the couch and yanked a red lingerie underneath him, quickly stuffing it behind a cushion before Raphael joined him. "The first time I've ever seen you another color!"

"What the hell is that noise outside?" Raph ripped his lips from the milk jug and whisked it on the coffee table.

"YO, JONES!" The sound of ghetto fluttered in the wind. "Whut up, homes!"

Casey groaned and screamed out the window from his seat. "Tommy, is that you?"

"It's me, it's me! Tommy Tsunami. Da Blade BAAWWWWSS!" a lily skinned, slim man hunkered in the window and presented his magnificent ego to an audience. Dressed in shiny urban wear big enough for a grizzly and a cap turned backwards with the words 'I GOT DIS', Tommy Tsunami flashed his golden grills and cocked his head. He couldn't stay still for a moment.

"You done rappin' with the Hood? They laughed you right off the street, didn't they?" Casey grabbed his absent green friend's milk jug and swallowed. He stopped momentarily and wondered if the milk was going bad, but he drank it anyways.

"They don't appreciate my talents. I put all da white rappers to SHAME, bro!" Tommy's silver chains jingled as he slammed his hand on the sill. "Eminem, Vanilla Ice, Bubba Sparxx... they ain't got NOTHIN' on me!"

"They don't have much to begin with!" came a muffled holler from the closet or from somewhere in the apartment.

"You got a fucking ghost in there, Jones? Who said dat? Yo! I don't take no sheet from no damn ghost! Motherfucking Poltergeist yo' bitch ass!" Complete with foreign gangster signs.

"What are you doing at my window?" Casey choked on his milk and sloshed around its contents in the jug at Tommy. "The East Coast Bloods see that, and you'll be rapping to the fishes!"

Tommy Blade Boss ignored Casey and erupted into his dance routine in the yard, rapping half words and humming the rest. Casey picked his nose and wondered if anybody would call the law.

"Hey, Blade Runner!" Raph appeared at the window and made Casey jump fifty feet in the air. "You look like a rocking chair with arms!"

Tommy's passion for breakdancing and one-upping green men soared in the small patch of dead grass. His salty lyrics of alien men slowly taking over Earth bounced off his whipping legs and large flapping clothes in the wind. Raph chuckled from the window, and Casey held his head in one hand, shameful of the weirdo kid outside his residence.

"You ain't gonna take our women, ET!" Tommy's hard breaths pulsed as he tried keeping his pants up, shaking one finger at Raph. "Green Motherfucka, I gotta blade under my tongue. That's why they call me Blade BAWS. That's BAWS, like the boss of yo' mother!"

Raphael poked his head out the window. "You dropped a chain, Baws."

"I ain't gotta take your abuse. I know the moon landing was fake and you and yo' kinds gonna pregnante all of us. No anal probe in me!" Tommy walked backwards, holding his pants tight, and dangling the rogue chain. "YEAH!"

When Tommy turned away, he bumped into menacing reptilian eyes. Raphael snorted like a bull and grinned evilly.

"You smell like shit, homes! Daaaaaaamn!" Tommy held his nose. "My gramma smells betta than you!"

Raphael grabbed the kid by his head and holstered his flailing and screaming body over his bulky green shoulders. Casey had no clue where Raph took his victim, but he was thankful for the silence and slammed his window and curtain shut. The Boston Bruins were tackling the Coyotes at seven, and he hoped Raph remembered to pick up snacks on the way back.


	6. Losing Steam

_Prompt 144- "Fourth wall". Eh, this is the best I could come up with and not have it go for epic length. I dig it. _

_Do you ever wonder what sacrifices April makes for the sake of her friendship with the Green?_

_PG, implied romance/sexy times (NOT with a turtle, though!)_

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><p>Sexy. Dynamite! And loving every moment of it!<p>

Hi, you lonely scavengers who read and write about terrapin mutants and their promiscuous adventures. There's nothing _promiscuous_ about them. The mere thought appalls me. They stay home, fight over marshmallows and tv, and occasionally battle evil organizations and plumbing problems.

Now, if you want to talk about sexy times, look at me: late 20s, plump figure, nice bounce to her step, hair that could strangle a werewolf, and legs that could go for miles. I'm talking about my _date night_, and how it doesn't involve marshmallow-deprived mutants. April "I need a break" O'Neil is ready to tour the wave of relations and get a little steam in her life. Totally dried up here, folks!

If I could just make it out the door before my cell phone vibrates or the window opens by green hands, I'll be home free! My high heels can't race across the apartment fast enough! The skin-tight black dress might be a bit much, but I'm not planning on having it on for long. I'm so excited to see the real world now, and enjoy life as a dashing young woman and -

"April," a pitiful voice drones behind me. Coming from the window. Yay...

Sigh. It's hard to ignore a gloomy face turtleboy wondering why his cat has disappeared and why none of his brothers seem to care.

Romance can wait.


	7. Clockwork Green

_prompt 145- falling leaves. Characters: Donatello, Michelangelo, a rather slimy human OC_  
><em>Rating: PG (violence but not graphically detailed, small talk over a man's groin area)<em>

_Summary: Donatello does some stealthy sleuth work._

_The one-shot is what it is so don't look deeply into it too much, hehe. I don't need anymore LOOONG stories! :p  
><em>

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><p>On Sundays, he visits his grandma in the nursing home and calls her pretty and trims her toe nails. As soon as her back turns, his greasy little fingers rummages through her purse and retrieves whatever amount of money he can find. Forty-something cents and a year old peppermint candy was last week's discovery.<p>

Thursdays is television and game night with his lackeys where they drown in beer and role playing mayhem. He has a liking for dwarfen thieves and fighting zombies in waist-high sewer water. He also ignores his pregnant girlfriend's numerous calls, and when he does answer, he lies about where he is, curses at her, and hangs up during her sobs. He never does see her. The guy is a _real_ prince.

He goes to church on Wednesday nights and _only_ Wednesday nights. How poetic. Goes for the potluck supper and Singles mingling. The only thing single about him is his brain cell count.

Fridays and Saturdays are all about the streets and what ghetto treasures he can find. Sometimes his warehouse job forces him to work overtime. He hustles during his breaks and calls all of his ladies except for the pregnant one. Last week, she confronted him at work and he called security. I wonder if I could team up with this chick and we send him screaming to the pits of hell. I bet she would do it.

He's boring on Monday nights. Does nothing but sit in his tiny apartment of filth and shame and constantly scratches and pokes at his scrotum. I see a visit to the health department in his future.

Mikey tipped me off about Tuesday nights. I could easily torture this guy in his home on Mondays or make a fool of him in front of his friends on Thursdays, but that's too easy. Tuesdays, Mr. Macho goes to the pool hall, smokes a cheap cigar, and flashes his pecs and tattoos. I remember his falling leaves tattoo crystal clear. It's something I can't get out of my head for the past month, and until I knock a little vengeance in his grimy teeth, the leaves descend, never-ending. Recapitulating like clockwork.

It's time for a little pool hall visit with my finest trenchcoat. I actually had to blow the dust off it.

"Got a hump on your back there, buddy?" he says to me, puffing cigar smoke into the putrid lobby air. "Guess you need a little pool time 'cuz you won't be getting lucky tonight except with a blind bitch." His frozen hazel eyes reflect the smoke curling around him, and that spindling grin puts a nice cherry on top for this twisted, soggy cake.

I humor him and play a few rounds. He wins because I'm terrible at pool and don't really care about it. I never rip my sight from him, and as soon as he thinks he's the champion of the universe, I strike as hard as a hurricane: cigar holes in several places on his skin, a pool stick to the groin, meaty punches, screams, and arm twists, and finally, one good skull crack across his victory table. The place is shriveled at its very seams. It's gratifying and funny at the same time when the police and paramedics arrive, and the Hunchback of New York slithers underground.

When I rush back in the sewers, Mikey charges towards me, yelling, "I was totally coming to help but I couldn't get Raph off my butt but I got PICTURES!" He rattles on, shaking the polaroid camera, and wants to hear the story about five times and screeches with laughter all the way home. I have no way of ditching him at this point, really.

"Is the Chief in his room?" I whisper, entering our home quietly and peering around every corner. Mikey tiptoes around like a goofy cartoon character and makes the final rounds.

"Yeah! Let's go!" his hand signals, and we carefully creep to Leonardo's room.

Mikey adds the pictures to a nice, stout collection on Leonardo's wall. His room has transformed into a family shrine. It's rather pathetic but humble.

"He'll be so proud of you when he sees this!" Mikey squeezes between a makeshift table and the wall full of old photos. "Donatello the Brainaic Badass, defending his family and scorning guys with bad tattoos. You're a real detective, slick!"

I chuckle and rub my sore knuckles. They only tingle a little. "He needs to get his butt back soon and stop making us worry."

"And keep the Chief out of our shells!"

We meditate over the mini shrine and wish our absent brother the safest, quickest personal journey.


	8. Control, of Losing and Keeping

_prompt 149- "How's that working out for you?"_

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><p>"<em>You've lost interest in things that once made you happy."<em>

All I can think about while my therapist talks is if I left my computer on back at the house. Did I leave my work keys in my desk? How will I pay rent this month with hours being cut at work?

"_In our last session, you talked about having control. Did you want to make a list of things you can control and things you can't control, Miss O'Neil?"_

I know I can't control men and their feelings, their opinions, and dreams. I can barely control my budget.

"_Do you still have your house guests?"_

They finally moved out and I have a meager amount of food now, instead of none. Today, I ate some graham crackers and an apple. That was about six hours ago. Before that, I had a biscuit and I can't remember eating anything over the last few days.

"_Did you want to say something, April?"_

The world shakes too much, Doc. I'm thirty years old and I feel like I have to start all over again. I don't know what being normal is and if I ever get back to it. I love those boys, but I think it would hurt their hearts if I told them I couldn't take the stress anymore. That's why I'm here, Doc. I've broken myself trying to fix them.


	9. Rolling, Rolling, Sliding

_prompt 150 - "reading by starlight". Rated PG-13 for language._

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><p>"Rowing down a riiiiiiiiverrrr! In the cold of the NIIIIGHT!" Michelangelo warbled on a ear-bleeding note, gliding the paddle through the chilly waters. "Because my brother-is-a-dumbass and got us-" he exploded in a classic Opera finish, "LOOOOST!"<p>

His audience didn't clap. Donatello was reading a book and nonchalantly flipped a page. Maybe Leonardo sighed somewhere in there.

Guiding their river boat was getting boring, and so was entertaining his lackluster audience. "Hey, Captain of the good ship, Immutable Dreams, you still have April's present?"

From the other end of their makeshift flatboat, water steamed around Raph's hot ankles. "I can't hear you over the sound of bullshit and your godawful singing. Shut up!"

"Does that mean you still have the gift?"

"YES!" Raph's thunder ripped through the trees. Midnight flirted with their adventure now, and Leonardo checked his watch religiously. He admitted that it was nice to see the starlight, a welcome relief from the sewer darkness and bright New York lights. Curiously, he peeked over at Don, engrossed heavily in a book and wondered where his brother's mind was traveling; it certainly wasn't on the river with the rest of the crew.

Leo glanced back over the water, shifted his elbow off his propped knee. The cold suddenly crossed his path. "Mikey, you've asked him four times. I'm getting tired of hearing it, too."

Raph sloshed one of his legs as he whirled around to meet Mikey in the eye. "What the hell does immutable mean? Why am I even asking you? Don? What does it mean?"

Another page turned, Don licked his lips and didn't look up. "Constant. Regular. Homogenous."

Raph scoffed and flicked back to the river. He mumbled, "Whatever. Dick."

Leo saw the slow crawl of Don's eyes burning into Raph's shell. He fell a little on edge, paying close attention to the next series of events. He should try to save it before-

"I'll use it in a sentence: your immutable vocabulary is pathetic. So is your attitude. Read a fucking book."

A shark could have jumped out of the water and eaten off his feet, and Raph wouldn't have noticed. He was too busy gawking at his snappy brother. "Because you're my bro, I won't cave your beak in. Get back to your book, Einstein, and have a cup of what I gave to Mikey, too."

Leo leaped to his feet and dove between the two. "Alright, that's enough. Raph, now-"

"I'm sooooo scaaaaared!" Mikey drew in an encore, using the paddle as a microphone. "Oh, the green team was SHOPPING for their friend when the nasty Foot ruined their DAAAAY!"

"Seriously, Mikey, stop..." Leo's face waxed annoyance.

"I'll tell you a tale of glorious woe and the Foot decided to goooo... to Macy's but we all took a wrong turn and what the hell is going onnnnnn!" Mikey rocked the boat and did an air guitar impression.

"You're making the fish drown!" Raph screamed, clapping his hands over his ears. "Can you make your singing immutable? Did I use that right in a sentence, Teach?" He glared at Donatello, who shook his head and returned to the book.

Arching backwards like he was warbling his last song, Mikey continued, "STARLIGHT! It was Shania Starlight, the bottle all BEE-AUTIFUL and sparkled in the store light! And it made me think of a red head with a TEEE-URTLE fetish. Oh, what were we doing theeeeere?"

Reclaiming his lukewarm spot, Leo sighed and crossed his fingers that either they would reach home first or Mikey's vocal cords expired. All seemed quiet on the Raphael and Donatello front, too.


	10. Nomad's Porcelain

_prompt #152 "Preparing for the Holidays". Rated K+, mild language and angst-y._ _Raphael_

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><p>I should have thrown out that damn snowglobe. It does nothing but remind me of invisible footprints, three thousand miles from home. And I keep wanting to get further and further away. Maybe I'll be in the Pacific soon at this rate and hear the rush of the ocean life in my ears. Ol' Raphael, the mean old turtleman living off the world.<p>

"What kind of retarded thing is that?" Some dumb kid with a mud colored face and blank eyes pointed at my raggedy treasure. "Did your grandma give that to you? And why do you have green skin on your face? You got syphilis?"

I imagined his face in wet cement, and I was happy. I even grinned, which made his eyes almost drop out of their sockets. The dirty snowglobe wobbled in my hand, mainly from the bumpy truck ride full of illegals and bums, like me. Human stink to high shit, I'm telling you, but they all have stories to tell whether I care to hear them or not. I just go along for the ride.

"It was a gift from my brother. By now, he's probably hanging up pretty little lights and making watered down hot cocoa. I don't have no syphilis."

The kid raised his hand through tattered brown clothes and poked the globe like it would attack at any moment. "Is that a fish in there?"

"And an Eskimo, I guess."

"Your brother not know what Christmas means? It don't have fish."

I adjust the satchel over my knee, and rattle its contents that have seen many miles, like me. "He knows it more than I do. The Eskimo's fishing. He gotta eat."

"Maybe your brother thinks that Eskimo is you."

My lips tightened. "I ain't no Grizzly Adams, Woodchuck!"

Kid laughed and the truck hit a huge bump, and I guess my grip wasn't all that good because the globe almost fell. Don't know why I would try to catch it but I did and collided into Woodchuck Kid's hands. I dusted off the globe and tucked it back in my satchel. Maybe if I just curl into the corner, the annoyance would die away.

"Merry Christmas, Grizzly."

I growled at him, and he giggled, tucking back into his guardian's blanket. Mikey wouldn't think I'm no Eskimo. I know how to feed myself without some stupid snowglobe reminding me to eat! I left on my own and I've made it just fine, and the next chance I get, I'm chucking the only thing that reminds me of Mikey and his ugly mug... of any of them and their ugly mugs.

The only thing... left. The only thing left to remember them besides what's in my head. Nothing else in my satchel came from New York.

When the truck stopped, I put it far behind me and kept moving.


	11. The Apartment of Misfit People

_prompt 154- "all wrapped up in a bow". Box, meet Outside! :D. Rated T - a couple of naughty words. Blame the boys and their video games.  
><em>

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><p>She just knew those pink and red boxes under the plastic white tree were full of perfume, lingerie, and bath soap. The Turtles had asked her on December 23rd what she wanted for Christmas that year and she mumbled something as she was juggling eight bags of groceries and avoided plugging a hole in an excited Klunk's head. The damn cat <em>always<em> got under her feet and strangely, at the same time each day. Did Mikey ever feed his cat or let it run around the sewers fending for itself? No wonder it looked so scrawny.

Of course, Mikey was too busy crooning "I Saw Mamma Kissing Santa Clause" in her bathroom and had been practicing on it since November. He was pretty decent by now but for the first two weeks, she found a new home at the local library. They even served cookies on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Donatello picked up one of the pink boxes; he held it like glass. "Here, April. My present."

"Oh!" _Uncross your arms, April! Don't look so ungrateful!_ "Thank you, Don." Her fingers sheared away the shiny foil, and she smiled, "You knew I needed a new teapot, huh?" He looked away, grinning and sitting back down on the couch. She genuinely liked the retro blue teapot and squeezed it on the coffee table with empty boxes of cookies and old Chinese takeout boxes.

"Shoot over there, Raph! Ya blind asshole!"

On the floor, a green fist ferociously collided into Casey's head. The two dueled over the latest video game like a pair of adolescents; Raph's shell hammered into the coffee table, rattling all of boxes and her teapot. She had visions of drunk sugarplum fairies playing ring-around-the-rosey on the table and the brand new teapot meeting its demise.

She swiped it away as Raph screamed with a toothpick in his teeth, "If ya can't play like a grown man, go sit with the kids. Every man for himself in this game, loser!" Her eyes automatically rolled; it was like the top of her eyelids had a patch of glue and gummed her pupils up each time Raph and Casey played the hypocrite game.

Casey rubbed his noggin and shot on the edge of the couch. "You touch me again and I'll shove the game up your ass, ya Santa fucker!"

"There was a sweet ass Santa on the corner last night. I could untie that bow!" She guessed the argument was over as the two buffoons roared with laughter and resumed shooting each other on screen.

The other girly-wrapped boxes were indeed the perfume, lingerie, and bath soap. Leonardo should have known better than to pick up a box labeled "from Gorilla Man to Adventure Girl" and watched her open it. Splinter was quite humble about it, and Don snickered at Leo's embarrassment.

"Open mine, April!" Raph bellowed, not tearing his eyes away from the tv.

"Actually, it's from all of us," Don whispered next to her. "We wanted to get the shitty presents out of the way first."

Casey nosed into the conversation, eyes buzzing into Don's forehead. "Gorilla Man spent some good bucks on his. He expects to get compensated."

Only Splinter could have enough elegant grace to present a prestige bow from under the couch. April nearly wet herself.

"A Bear Archery Brave III Compound Bow Whisker Biscuit!" Her squeals resonated through the livingroom; she even kissed Splinter on the nose. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU!"

Gorilla Man stood no chance against the Bear Archery bow. She obsessed over its architecture, stared at it at night, acted like a crack addict without getting a practice in, and when spring arrived, April 'Adventure Girl' O'Neil pulled out that bow, and during one of her first few sessions, promptly shot Splinter in the ass. Ouch!

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><p><em>Merry Christmas!<em>


	12. Tales to Yoshi

_prompt 155 - "a night of drunken adventures". I figured that Ninja Turtles could party pretty hard._ _I fast forwarded them to 21 since I feel a little better about that, hehe. _

_Rated G, Humor. Your favorite turtle might have been pretty bad, though.  
><em>

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><p>Greetings Master Yoshi,<p>

I will not be here when you grace us with your weekly visit. I hope the NGC 5866 galaxy was particularly exciting for you. As always, I cannot wait to join you in your other-world journeys someday. For now, I shall tell you about last night's 'journey', if you can call it that.

My sons are brilliant, hard working children; however, that goes without saying the working hard part moves into the playing hard philosophy. I, your humble and quiet pet rat, have my hands full at times, this I know. Very much know. Picture this: New Year's Eve. You know where I am going with this statement. Yes, my sons consume enough alcohol to raise the legal drinking age to forty. They are older now, 21, and I do not have enough tentacles to keep them from getting into misadventures. I will quietly admit that it is funny to hear about these drunken tales, but I do worry for their safety. Several times you have recommended I cage and ship them to the Ancient One. I have thought about this and will likely consider it now.

Let us start with Michelangelo the Foolish. I found him wearing a traffic light as a necklace, wearing a black mask from some horror movie (called "Scream" if I remember) and chasing homeless people with a frozen dead rat. I am appalled. We are acquaintances with many of those people, and help them frequently. Thus, the only logical thing for a drunken idiot to do is put his freezing lips to a cold carcass, and then one has a tricky and questionable situation on their hands. Do not worry. I immediately smacked him with the rat as soon as they were released.

Raphael's temperament and my delicate fur have impeccable timing, it seems. I will refrain from getting too obscene in this letter, but I do not recall teaching the boy how to relieve himself in a baby's carriage and then insulting both child and mother. He will babysit Shadow and substitute his brother in the Cowabunga Carl costume until further notice. Despicable!

When I gave Donatello his first science book, I did not realize that someday he would use his extensive knowledge to change some of the ATMs' languages into Latin. I even asked him what is the difference between hydrocarbons and carbohydrates, and he said the weekend special with the best chips. In your brilliantly immortal state, do you have any idea what that means?

I am saddened that you could not see your twilight years. It is a time of great reflection and prosperity. When Leonardo reaches that age, I hope his tattoo of a naked lady and twin katanas reminds him of when the clock struck midnight on that fateful New Years and his father's encouraging words could be heard into the next year.

They will all need to explain why a tank sits smoking in the Foot headquarters. We have a lot of making cupcakes and explaining to do.

Please say hello to Tang Shen for me, and do not mention this to her. Hearing about Raphael will devastate her.

My love to you always,

Splinter


	13. Regent

_prompt 158 - "king and queen". Humor, rated K. Karai and Chaplin are an interesting dynamic._

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><p>"Mistress Karai, can we take a break? I can't feel my arms anymore."<p>

Her black eyes shimmered under the mall lights as she investigated over exotic purses and necklaces. "Who makes these tacky accessories? Set the bags down on the floor, Chaplin. I do not like complainers."

His wild red hair swaying in the cool draft, Martin Chaplin fumbled with the bulky, stylish gray and black bags, some that probably cost more than his tattered dollar store shoes, and heaved a dejected sigh. Karai lanced him with her right, steady eye at his disapproval.

She turned back around and bolted upright, with her hands behind her back. "Are you bored?"

He pushed his glasses up his nose and drooped his shoulders, longingly staring at her back, "No, Mistress Karai. I've had insomnia for three days and pulled an all-nighter on that new program. Forgive me."

"I openly admit that I have no lady friends to help me with this yearly duty. You shall be relieved of your commitments tonight in exchange for doing this with me today."

He smiled as if he won a million dollars and a decent haircut. "It's no skin off my nose, Mistress. You have very nice tastes in fashion."

Karai's fingers tightened. "Did you think otherwise?"

"No!" he squawked, scaring a small child passing by. "You- you're just so busy with work and exercise that I've never really seen you... uh, act like, uh... shop."

A store keeper eyed them while putting away merchandise. When his mistress didn't answer, Chaplin cleared this throat and stretched his collar. "Did – did you like that episode of Desperate Housewives I torrented for you?"

Her olive skinned hand examined a blue and yellow bracelet on a rack. "One of the better episodes. It amazes me that we have the same taste in shows." She twisted her upper torso towards him, a tight smile curling. "I look forward to the next one."

"I'm on it!"

"And also," she pivoted, her perfect ebony hair barely moving around her chin, "I will order the ice cream today. You will not order chocolate or a ghastly Reese's peanut butter... atrocity and ruin our trip home. I would like a quick trip to the spa, and by that, I wanted it yesterday. See to it that it is done, Chaplin."

He rapidly thumbed through his smartphone, saying 'yes, mistress' at the end of all of her sentences while she marched out of the store, the tight smile on her face disappearing.


	14. The Pyramid

_Prompt 160 - "eat your vegetables". Comedy, Rated G, Donatello. It's Halloween in February, oh well!_

I saved a carrot, a zucchini, and a potato on Halloween. It was one of the more interesting holidays for me, indeed..

Our One Special Day always starts with Leonardo lecturing at our bottoms as we're climbing to the top, ready to explore the evening and see how many people we can get to say, "Cool costume!", "How long did that take?", or my favorite: "Totally fake!".

"Slam the lid on his trap!" Raphael, our conspicuous brother, was halfway down the street by the time I managed to ooze out of the sewer.

"I heard that! Stay close by!" Leo shouted through the hole and my left foot. "Where's Mikey?"

With one quick glance in Raph's direction, that was our cue to scatter like roaches. Normally I would be the well-behaved reassuring brother, but I wasn't going to hear his mouth all night! I had three hundred and sixty four other days for that travesty.

* * *

><p>I admit that it's difficult not to walk in the darkness and hunker as far down in my shell as I could squeeze. It's like putting on a different shade of glasses, or maybe taking them off, rather, and exploring the same world but from another angle and in a wide range of colors. The smell is altered, too, and I like sitting in a random cafe with my laptop. I impress people with my quick typing ability in a "costume" and the way I hold and consume a raspberry muffin.<p>

I found Mikey in an arcade, hogging one of the popular games, and kids offering to give him cash if he relinquished his seat. I smelled a money making opportunity and left all of my morals at the front counter. The amusing part was that Mikey never realized I was there.

Unfortunately I don't have Leo's negotiating skills or Raph's intimidating behavior (or breath), and the use of my intellectual tongue didn't come in handy with these kids. One kid kept saying, "huh?" even during the middle of my sentences, and enough was enough after fifteen minutes. I became one with my cockroach mentality and broke camp... with ten easy dollars.

As twilight bared down on my visible green shoulders, I passed a group of Dungeons and Dragons costumes, which some were very well crafted, and they gave me a thumbs up. I barely noticed since an attractive Strawberry Shortcake winked at me. My first thought: "Does she need medical attention?". Second thought: "I'm reducing my sugar intake. No, thanks."

I really had no direction on that night, and my brain was, of course, bouncing everywhere, soaking in all of the City Life that I never get to see from the other side. Then, I heard the familiar noise of a cry for help. Most animals are attuned to the sound of their young, but a ninja turtle is attuned to the sound of danger. It was like a reflex for me, and I tossed away the colors and lurched back into the shadows.

A ragtag team of bullies pushed on a little carrot, zucchini, and potato. The carrot was the loudest and flailed a lot, flapping its little orange arms until it could almost lift off the ground. Zucchini helped the carrot and frantically looked around for an escape. The Potato was a hoot! It rammed straight into a random bully's stomach, but bounced off the big guy and skidded all over the place. Poor little spud.

"Those are terrible costumes," I barked but said it more like I was talking to no one in particular, which I wasn't, "Better watch what kind of makeup you slap on your face. You could get brain cancer."

"Who said that!" the wild-eyed, short leader with a tangled purple mop for hair exclaimed, flittering his eyes around the alleyway. "Come out, jerkoff! Back it up!"

And that was over with rather quickly. I certainly "backed it up", and the leader was definitely wearing makeup. The vegetable kids gathered around me, parading in circles and in general awe over the spectacle.

Dirt-faced Carrot girl hung onto my belt and squealed, "Thanks! I'm glad you took over where I left off! They better be glad I didn't get a hold of them!"

I turned back to the heap of comatose bullies on the ground, just so I could gently roll my eyes at the kid and avoid invoking carrot wrath. "Oh yeah, you could have shown them..."

I felt my Bo being tugged in the back. Zucchini Boy was inspecting my shell. "You're like an action figure. Do you have other stuff in there?"

The edge of a potential nightmare drew near. I sighed, "No. Please get your hand off my butt."

Potato was of indeterminate gender. I can't tell the difference when kids are eight and dressed in costumes. She, I assumed, had a lazy left eye and a tablespoon of freckles on her cheek. "Are you supposed to be the Jolly Green Giant?"

"You can join our group!" Carrot jolted, spraying bits of candy out of her pumpkin bag. "We are different vegetables every year and do our best to teach others to eat right!"

"Like a food pyramid?" I cleared my throat, trying hard not to chuckle.

Zucchini and Potato lined up with Carrot, and oh for pete's sakes, they danced and sung a number! No wonder they were bullied.

Carrot tottered over to the bullies and left them each a candy on their noses. "My parents are dieticians and they also taught me to be nice even when others are mean and stupid." One bully groaned and flicked a hand, which sent Carrot right back to our party in a hurry. "But don't worry, Super Veggies, I gave them the crappy candies!"

"What's your name?" Potato blurted and stared directly into my turtle-y soul as we strolled away from any further danger.

"Pablo." I'm a ninja! I have a thousand secret names.

"Like in Picasso? Do you paint?" Zucchini tugged at flimsy strings on his costume. Carrot wouldn't let me answer, and I was grateful for it anyways. She bellowed their little vegetable song into the crowd and traffic, but this was New York, and that was acceptable.

The rest of the night, I acted like their stone cold body guard, but I scored some serious sweets and a few numbers since females thought I was their father. I learned that Zucchini and Carrot were siblings, Potato liked technology and history, Carrot wanted to be president and give everyone a kitten and a fresh supply of fruit and vegetables, Zucchini wore the costumes only to please his family, and Potato asked if I had a facebook. I almost wanted to take those kids home. Almost.


	15. Adjustment

_Prompt 161- "routine". Rated G, suspense. Features TMNT and combining it with another favorite genre of mine. I'm not sure if this plot bunny will go further but it sure sounds cool!_

* * *

><p>Midday of Wednesday the 28th blossomed into thorns of routine, and four pairs of green, thick feet sludge through the disagreeable waters of underground Manhattan. They hadn't seen topside in nearly two weeks, nor any form of civilization as their Master had engaged the frisky students in rigorous physical and mental training. Outside their lair, the rest of the sewers had never seemed quite so beautiful and refreshing after the shut-in.<p>

Mikey greeted the wet rodents scampering around the corners with open arms and a toothy grin. "Lucille! Jack! Chico! Pepsi! I missed you! Come over here and give your big reptilian brother an infected kiss!"

"Good god, I could kill a man for a shake and fries!" Raph body slammed into Mikey, thumping the puckered-lip turtle into the adjacent wall. "Let's go get food first!" He watched Mikey act like the body slamming was as natural as breathing the way Mikey leaped to his nimble feet and trailed after the rats again. Raph splashed and kicked water everywhere, scaring rats and everything else in sight.

"Matildaaaa!" Mikey's shrill voice cleared any kind of life trampling in their territory. He and Raph's mixed baritone and screeching cackles met mild annoyance from Leo, who was wearing a dark blue rain hat and matching poncho. The only reason his brothers hadn't teased the hell out of him was simply that his dreams had been disturbing lately. Actually, his overall behavior was a little odd, but none of the others knew how to gracefully approach it. Maybe it was a phase and would pass.

Holding the flashlight, Don shot up a finger, alarmed. "Shush! To the right." Each brother peeled off the routine and disappeared as quick as the last drop of murky water. They had saintly patience, but nothing more happened in a span of fifteen minutes and Raph immediately signaled at Leo to do something. Leo briskly acknowledged and grazed the corner, his feet bending the water to his will. Smoky light beamed on the grate ahead, and Leo knew his brothers were close behind now.

"Ugh, what's that smell?" Mikey pinched his beak. "It's even worse than what's usually down here!"

Armed with his sai, Raph crept beside Don, and all were eager to see what was beyond the grate.

Leo motioned for Don to lower the beam, and the pungent smell almost blew them back before they reached the spot. Still pinching his nostrils, Mikey pushed through his brothers and knelt down into the water. "This is some serious garbage! Ugh!"

Raph leaned over Mikey's shoulder, wrinkling his own beak. "Yeah! It's a rotten body!"

Don scanned the flashlight over the bloody, mangled corpse and took a couple of steps back. The smell matched exactly what was in front of them. The corpse floated face down with bits of flesh and cloth wafting around it. "I think the hair has been pulled out of its skull," Don said, doing another full scan as far as his arm extended the light. "Definitely foul play, just from the looks of it. Leo?"

The team peered at their leader quickly, and Don moved the light on Leo's face. He blinked sharply, and his brothers read the signs of apprehension painted all over, even with the rain hat on his head. Leo swallowed and didn't make eye contact, "It looks that way. I want you all to stay close, and I mean-" his eyes deadlocked on the family, "-_close_."

"You just looked really creepy right there, Bro," Mikey's fingers finally left his beak as he stood on his feet. "I vote that we just leave the body. I'm not touching it!"He crossed his arms and glanced at Raph, who jabbed a sai towards the body.

"I didn't sign up for nothing!"

Perturbed by Leo's fluctuating behavior, Don switched the light back to the corpse, now barring its decaying teeth and moaning at them.

"That's... not normal," Don calmly stated, shuffling backwards, and joined swiftly by Leo. Raph and Mikey were too busy squawking and causing sonic waves in the sewer. The corpse pined at them through the bars, desperately seeking a victim, but it was soon drenched back into the darkness and its watery grave.

The evening of Wednesday the 28th marked the last of their routines and a dismal, hair-brained beginning.


	16. Buzz

_prompt 165- "weapon of choice". Rated PG, family, comedy. April narrates._

* * *

><p>The phone crackled between his instructions, which I could have really used right now. Stupid Casey and his need to keep a land line phone, and one that always had a buzz to it and got louder on rainy days, like today. "I'll be - there - will - let's - five o'clock?"<p>

"Donny, please repeat! This crappy piece of - !" The headset vibrated under my fingers as I smashed it against the coffee table. "HELLO!"

The buzz was still there, of course. Oh, and I have a leaky roof, too. I decided to just shout into the phone. "DONNY, JUST COME AT 5 THIS EVENING." One final slam and I didn't have to hear the buzzing anymore. Poor Don. I hope he's not mad at me. I would use my cell phone but it's out of minutes and I hate texting. They could text me but I would just call them back to answer. Irma used to text me so much that I developed cramps in my fingers and lately I'm just overloaded with communication.

Right on cue, my phone pinged with a message. Don. "Can't come this evening. Will tomorrow. Later."

_Drip, drip, drip_. Time for the frying pan. The Walking Dead marathon is on and I'm not moving from this couch. What's another day anyways? It's gone for a month like this.

* * *

><p>Okay, after the fourth viewing of seasons one and half of season two, I grew pretty tired of the characters trying to kill each other and forgetting there are zombies out there already trying to kill them. Watching the show made me miss Mikey and Raph. They're my "walker" buddies. We even created our own Facebook group. We were a part of the forum, but Raph and I got banned, and Mikey was the moderator who banned us. Walking Dead fans are as dumb as they come. He'll see it one day.<p>

I left our leaky, squirrel-infested apartment (did I mention that? squirrels in my roof? Yep.) and walked in on the guys arguing and fighting. They were pretty intense. Nothing really new but alarming all the same simply because Leonardo was pointing a spoon in the air like one of his katanas.

"Raspberry! No more discussion!" Leo lanced his hands through the air, and the room fell silent. Mikey then scoffed.

"Just mix them all together, Bro! I did that a few times."

"And it's why the stuff looked like dirty dishwater!" Don howled from the corner of the room, back to his audience and tinkering with stuff on his desk. I hope it's the equipment to fix my roof. "I'm not sure I like the direction the show is going for season three. Who was that katana person? She seems unrealistic."

Raph munched on Doritoes and slurped on a Wendy's frostee. I knew I was craving something on the way here! "And zombies aren't unrealistic? That's Michonne, and I'm caught up on the comics now so she'll kick that Governor's ass-"

"Shut up!" Mikey and Don protested, with Mikey taking a good chunk of Raph's head against his palm. A bag of Doritoes slammed into Mikey's face, pieces of cheesy goodness everywhere, and they tumbled on the floor like a couple of brats. I hate this diet I'm on. If nobody would notice, I'd suck the pieces right off the floor.

"Hey, April," Don half-smiled, still ticked at Raph's spoiler. "You wanted insulation in your roof too? Maybe there's enough squirrels up there to insulate it anyways."

I didn't want to tell him that every time I see a squirrel outside, I yell, "Stay out of my roof!" I stole Raph's seat and pointed at Leo in the kitchen. "What are you guys arguing over?"

"Koolaid," Don whispered, smashing a hammer on a two-by-four. "I voted for cherry but raspberry will do. It seems we're very serious about our kool-aid."

"If you don't drink it, I'll take it."

His calculating eyes glared at me. "Nice try, lady. Just water for you."

When he turned his back, I chugged back some of Raph's frostee. Leaky roof, squirrels, harsh diet, and ninja turtles fighting over koolaid... I needed some kind of quick relief!


	17. White Spell

_Prompt 168 "time travel". Rated G, family, comedy. _

_Summary: Time-traveling ladies can always brighten up a boy's dull afternoon._

* * *

><p>Sunday afternoon proved boring and was for the birds. Master Splinter and Leonardo embarked on a pilgrimage last Friday, and the abandoned family members missed their dear old punching bag of a brother. Splinter warned them not to do anything outrageous, like inviting groupies with a thing for mutants and time travel. "As much as I enjoy my alone time, these old bones cannot comb through the Dark Ages looking for my sons. The Prehistoric Age was enough. I have never liked Jurassic Park." Mikey pouted after Splinter's harsh words and played with his dinosaur figurines.<p>

The lair was just too quiet, except for Donatello's _Dwarf Fortress_ game music. Raphael thumped away one of Mikey's dinosaurs and grunted, "That sounds like a dwarf getting his ball hairs tuned. It's a stupid old game!"

"Don-NY!" Mikey crowed, snatching up his fallen toy. "Mute your game for this big baby!"

All of his dinosaurs tumbled on the floor in one big green swipe. Instead of clobbering Raph's beak, Mikey simply scooped up the toys and used his foot to crush a bag of Cheeto puffs on the floor several times and spray orange dust everywhere. Raph smirked at the spectacle and chewed on a toothpick. "It ain't my turn to vacuum no way."

Don didn't even need to witness the disaster. He muttered, "Imbeciles," and activated a dwarf massacre and barbeque cat party in gameplay; the dwarves never realized they were on fire and visited the booze stockpile because they were a little parched, which resulted in a booze-spolsion. Don's maniacal laughter made his brothers stop fighting and wonder about his sanity.

"Told ya it's a stupid game. His dwarves eat cats!" Raph flopped back on the couch and kicked a pterodactyl toy across the room. "Bet he named one Klunk."

A splash of light flickered in the adjacent game room. Raph and Mikey merely blinked at the circumstance. As Raph idly nibbled on the toothpick, he moaned, "Oh god. What does she want?"

Sitting on the floor, Mikey waved as long and wide as he could. "Renet! What's shaking, babe? Did you bring me back a souvenir? Maybe my old Alf doll? Little Mikey would just think Horrible Little Raph stole it. I'll give it back to him."

Sporting a fuchsia jumpsuit with rhinestones and frilly ankles and wrists sleeves, Renet's face screamed 'sad puppy'. Raph curled his upper lip, investigating the odd outfit, "Did Elvis give you that?"

"Love the white boots!" Mikey peered into the shoes, grinning. "I can see my reflection!"

"I'm old!" she squealed, tensing her arms and protruding her lower lip. "I got this cool new motorcycle from Lord Simultaneous and I thought I would feel cooler and younger but I'm not, and hey, do you still have that pinball machine? I like the sounds it makes!"

Raph and Mikey immediately checked behind Renet and found her slick, shiny new white motorcycle, as buffed as her boots. They scampered over to it, sniffing around like dogs.

Her doe eyes gleamed, "So can I play the pin—"

"Yeah, yeah, over there where it always is," Raph pointed towards the corner but paying more attention to the bike. "So this little sweetie is your new time machine?"

"Yep!" Renet's boots clacked against the cement floor. "Hi, Don! How many cats killed today?" She squealed over the pinball game as the lights dazzled each corner.

"Hello, Renet. Twenty-eight," he answered without looking up. "Be careful where you step over there because the plug's a little loose in the wall."

The machine sucked away Renet's attention, and she didn't see the little glimmer of light from where her motorcycle used to stand. Don gradually looked back in the same direction, noticing how quiet it got, and figured his brothers would be back before Renet noticed. He wasn't going to be the one in trouble anyways. So, back to feeding cats to forest trolls.


	18. The Devil and Popcorn

_prompt 169 - "frostbite". Rated PG (language), comedy. 16 year olds Zach and Angel go on a movie date._

* * *

><p>Zach's fingers produced trembles, quickly shifting into mini-earthquakes. His first real movie date with a girl, and not with his sister, or his mother and her bingo friend, or the church youth group. The blonde haired sixteen year old buried his hands in his pockets and nervously rubbed a few coins. His date, the vivacious Angel with her thick locks of purple and red hair and beautiful dark eyes, jabbed him with her elbow and directed his shaky attention to the box office.<p>

"Two tickets for Hood Spiders, seven-thirty, p-please," he blabbed into the speaker, almost knocking the attendant out of her chair. She regained her hearing and ripped two tickets out of the hub.

Angel snickered and whispered in his ear, "Are you _scared _of a few spiders in the hood, Blondie?"

"No way!" he laughed and almost forgot to pay because Angel's smile glittered and the earthquake dribbled into his legs, and oh man, he really had a date! He remembered meeting her at church, and nobody liked her wild hair color or her pompous grandmother, but she was nicer than the other girls and didn't take any crap. He liked a lady with an attitude! One stormy evening when Zach delivered pizza and chicken wings into the sewers, Angel sloshed through the drainage muck with Casey and Michelangelo like an Amazon. She scored quadruple awesome points, and his knees haven't held him straight since then.

Back to the sweet reality, Zach was astounded by his date's ferocious appetite. She almost ordered the entire concession stand. He gratefully paid anyways and asked for gummy bears. Perturbed, Angel slapped his hand. "I'm sharing this stuff with you! I got gummies!"

"Oh, sorry.."

And the young dude behind the stand winked at Angel, "What you seein' this evening, miss?" with all of the scheming goo of a douchemongler, Zach winced. She could have any guy in New York and would probably dump him in a heartbeat anyways..

"_WE_ are seeing Hood Spiders Four, and _WE_ are having a good time!" She popped a kernel in her mouth and winked back at Zach. "Get your gummies, Blondie, and saddle up for one shitty ride!"

He carried the jumbo drinks, his gummy bears, and she hoarded the stockpile of food, marching through the cinema with him, and momentarily telling him that he was too slow and to walk beside her, not behind her. Her orders made him smile. A little frightened, but he grinned at it.

After they selected their seats way in the back, Angel yelped, "Almost a whole theater to ourselves! I love crappy movies! Which drink is mine? You want some gobstoppers?"

The weight of the drink nearly crushed his waxy fingers. "These things almost give you frostbite! No, thanks. Are you c-comfortable?"

She leaned over the armrest, her nose as close to his face as another human being had ever been except for relatives, and she ... kissed his nose. Kissed his... nose!

"I like you, Blondie. You're a crazy goose, but I think you're a real cool guy. Loosen up with me!" she ripped into the gobstoppers package and chucked one into her mouth, "The hood spiders might get you! I did a marathon of the first three movies last night, and I dreamed that me, you, and the Turtles kicked some major spider ass, and you were all badass with your bloody katana and -"

She rambled next to forever, even when the movie began, but he was never interested in the movie and was perfectly fine with hearing anything she had to say. Angel whooped, hollered, and lunged food at the screen several times. The other patrons laughed at her antics, and soon the entire theater created their own dialogue. Zach spoke for all of the female characters, and Angel rolled with boisterous laughter on the empty seat beside her. He saw tears splashing down her cheeks and used his green, honorary fifth turtle bandana to dry them. She tied it around her forehead, yapping like a martial artist in the heat of a fight, and playfully slugged his arm. Even her taps were painful for him, but Zach chuckled and fired popcorn back at her.

They didn't even know the credits were rolling and people left the cinema. Most of their purchases littered the floor, and Zach wore the popcorn bucket over his head.

Angel jabbed her fist in the air, declaring, "Let's go find some hood spiders!", and they gleefully paraded into the city night, cackling and lost in their own silly little adventure.


	19. Poppy's Shade

_prompt 185: the end of summer; rated G. Splinter and toddler Shadow. Fluffy_

* * *

><p>While the days retired earlier and the birds and insects hushed, the farmhouse maintained its bubbly atmosphere, made possible through toddler Shadow's squeals and yips. The world belonged to her; arms stretched and feet wide, she gave everyone, trained ninjas and all, a run for their money and lint. Fair blonde curls dangling at their ends, she tapped the front door and whimpered. In a dramatic move, she couldn't reach the doorknob, bounced on her toes, and dashed over to her daddy, Casey, and popped him on the knee, jabbing her stubby fingers at the door. He was too busy carving a knife and chastised her for getting too close and for the child to return to her coloring book and GI Joes.<p>

Nestled in a quiet corner on a stuffy brown armchair, Splinter stopped reading his book after hearing Shadow's displeasure. The sniffing toddler looked at the humbled elder rat for sympathy, and he smiled at her, putting his book on the antique table.

Before she could blink away her tears, Splinter's warm fingers captured her soaky ones, guided her to the front door, opened into the sunlight, and gently walked down the steps with her. She never knew how to act around Splinter; with Mom and Dad, she pushed boundaries until she couldn't breathe through her nose, and with the green brothers, she played with them all the time. When she looked at the grandfatherly rat, she felt intimidated, but very safe. The family guaranteed her safety, but there was something different and special about him.

"Poppy," she whispered beside him, almost a little frightened. He was slower than the others, but she liked it because she could keep up with him. Her little feet were shaky at some points and she fell into things a lot.

Splinter and Shadow arrived under a silver-barked tree, an umbrella of shady brown and golden leaves weaving in the cool breeze. A red blanket waited for them on the ground, and Splinter let Shadow sit first. She was amazed by the falling leaves and the beautiful farm land that reached into forever. He tucked beside her, one arm around her small form, and one pressed on his lap.

Shadow and her Poppy enjoyed their turn on the end of summer's goodbye.


	20. Shoeless

_prompt 193: dancing in the rain_

_With Connie Nervegas' permission, this prompt features her original character, Shannon Darling, who stars in her romance fic, "Hamato Overture". You need to read if you haven't (and she needs to update it!). Shannon is mentally challenged and looks up to Raphael. I couldn't think of any TMNT character who would dance in the rain the way I wanted it to happen. Shannon filled that void. Enjoy._

* * *

><p>She wanted to dance in the rain: sweet Shannon Darling with sparse freckles across her cheeks, eyes so wide they swallowed the world one moment at a time, and a thin white dress brushing against her hips. Raphael wanted to join her but he wouldn't tell her that. He couldn't anyways so why even bother telling her. She loved catching the rain on her tongue and letting it fall into her eyes.<p>

"It tastes like lemon," her small mouth garbled droplets and choked her. "Can you see me!" she cried, swishing the dress back and forth. "I stepped on a rock!"

"I told you to keep your shoes on!" he squawked from the alley, quickly drawing back his voice for a moment in caution. He hissed back, "Get your shoes, woman! You'll get a nail stuck in them and then I have to hear you crying-"

The street filled with her laughter, Shannon opened her arms and spun around, splashing water up her legs. Rain gushed from the sky and embraced her drenched body. She couldn't hear Raph but saw his lips and jaw moving wildly. She craned her neck to see him better, but a beam of lightning streaked through the sky; Shannon squealed like a chicken and made it back to the alley by the time the thunder rolled.

"I had fun, Pretty Raph," she shivered and collided into him. He was so warm and big and smelled like a pine tree to her.

He couldn't stay mad at her; he laughed, even, because she resembled a wet cat. "We gotta get you dry or you'll get sick, crybaby."

"No!" she wrinkled her nose and playfully stomped her foot. "I want an ice cream sandwich and those cow boots."


	21. More Like a Squirrel

_prompt 194 - "something broken"; rated PG, humorous, strong language. Don, Raph, & Mikey  
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_I borrowed a good bit from real life to write this one. We're packing our house currently, and I can see Don hoarding electronics and gizmos like my husband does. Sigh._

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><p>"If you throw another piece of my shit away, I'll kick your manhood up your throat and you can chew on it."<p>

"Damn, Donny!" Raph howled, throwing his head back and laughing. "That deadzone you call a work room that important to ya?"

"We were just trying to help," Mikey said, slowly moving against the wall and to the nearest exit, if a fight broke out. "It really is a mess and we need to move. We've been coming back here for a month!"

Raph choked on his last laugh and pointed his finger at a roasting Don, "What's wrong with throwing stuff away? You don't need half of it."

Don dumped a box of wires on top of a lopsided tower of monitors and keyboards; he stubbed his toe against a broken table but bit his lip and refused to show any pain. He was too mad to show it anyways.

"So-so," Mikey began nervously, "They say if you don't use something in six months, you'll probably never use it. Wouldn't it be nice to clean the slate and start over?"

The mountain of electronics crashed to the floor, and Don closed his eyes and tensed his shoulders for a moment. Mikey scooted out the door and left Raph to fend for himself; Raph wasn't bothered by the wires spilling everywhere and electronics creaking under the weight. Every spot, nook, and cranny in the old room was shielded with whatever gizmo and gadget Don rustled out of the landfill and nicked from bad guys over the years. If Raph was calling it a shit hole, judging by his own filthy work and play areas, it was indeed a horrible place.

"Wish I could call Hoarders," Raph chuckled and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

Don mumbled something while cleaning up the wires and grabbing a thin box of screws and drill bits. Raph picked up a rogue cord with his toes and tossed it over Don's shoulder, hearing it clatter against something and causing another small boom. Don loaded both arms with his treasures, took a wide step over three computer towers, and charged for the door. He halted before making his grand exit and turned to Raph, "I expected Leo to be on my case, not you. All of this crap in here, as you call it, has powered your precious bike, tv, and computers. Now-" he juggled the objects and caught a black box before it fell, "-shut up and help me load everything, and I do mean everything, in the van. If it takes fifty trips, that's what I'll do. Calling my stuff crap, I can't believe you have the nerve..." he stomped into the darkness.


	22. Gimme!

_prompt 196 - "Follow the leader". Rated G, kid-Turtles, Don's POV. Probably set in a mixture of the first movie and the 2k3 universe. _

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><p>Mikey's six year old eyes floated in tears, and his hands popped from his lap in random spurts. "Gimme my car, Leo. NOW!" He waved and squirmed his legs in the air when Leo refused.<p>

"You didn't clean your area!"

"Stop it!" Mikey pounded the floor. "I didn't do nothing to you. Big donut head!"

Bemused, Don watched the spectacle from his corner. He glued the last empty toilet roll in a specially crafted, although questionable, makeshift dungeon where trolls, giant toaster creatures, and bad gum met a dark end. His brothers didn't make the most of their enrichment hour with all of the toy snatching and screaming. It was hard to ignore them; it made good background noise at least.

Wearing a polka dotted white blanket as a cape, Raph screeched at the highest decibel and tore through their claustrophic Lair, hopping from the couch to the chair and around Don's fortress before making Indian whoops under the table.

The other day, they fought over who would be Leader of the Hour. Don contemplated in his young mind an empowering feeling of his brothers standing behind him, looking to him for guidance and support. When they were two, however, they ate lumped cat litter on Don's command and Splinter spent hours wading through their stomach contents; just yesterday, they dusted each other in flour and sugar. Raph got too hyper and nearly choked himself over the table, dangling from his cape. Splinter never found out who lead the misadventures. There were a few good times like Mikey stopped throwing his tantrums and painted for ten minutes. That was because of Don's gentle hand guiding the shaking Mikey's over the paper. Splinter chastised Leo over something, Don couldn't remember, but he practiced with Leo when nobody else cared about his frown; the boy was too hard on himself.

But now, Leo slammed the toy against Mikey's shell while the squawking kid shook on the floor, and Raph played peek-a-boo under Splinter's robe and kept tripping the poor father.

Don didn't want to lead any of those kids.


	23. We're So British, We Poop Tea!

_My first Nicktoon short. I haven't watched it in ages and don't remember seeing any Foot ninjas so let's play pretend. The Kraang are way too annoying to me. I live with a British husband, and we make fun of each other's accents. _

"Is Raph almost finished with clobbering that Foot leader? I have a pot of tea to drink, mate."

"Don't forget your crumpets, Sir Donatello of the Brainy Isles! You get cranky if you skip your afternoon tea!" Mikey danced around a group of comatose and tied-up Foot ninjas and waved around an invisible wand. Don was wearing a top hat and leaning on his Bo like a cane.

Leo sighed at his brothers' antics. It was apparently Talk like a British Bloke Day, and he got the memo… he just ignored it. He quipped, "It's 1am, Mikey. Wouldn't it be midnight tea or something?"

"Where is my fair maiden?" Don proclaimed, outstretching his arms and screaming into the dark warehouse roof.

Mikey slid next to his top hat brother, staring dreamy-eyed into the roof. "His Maiden of Sugar Lips Island! When he speaketh your name, come forth from the darkness and accept his Eternal mutant love!"

Don blushed, stammering under his breath, "…or just come out so we can go home and watch Netflix. You know, whichever." He hid his face under the top hat once April, bedazzled and frizzy-haired from her adventure, appeared in the corner railing.

A Foot ninja groaned, and before Leo could spare a warning at his silly brothers, the Foot projected chunky vomit on Don and passed back out.

April squeaked when Mikey evaporated behind her on the railing and said in a small British-accented voice, "Thy maiden might want to stay up here for a while longer. Sir Donatello smells like a bog."


	24. 50 Shades of Grumpy

_I'm sick with a cold and sick OF this cold. Enjoy this Valentine's snippet starring the ladies from 'I Remember You': Lisa (Mona Lisa), Umeko (Ninjara), Emyrs, and April. This is technically a Dinner short since it's 8:30pm!  
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_I wanted to explore what my female leads would think of this 50 Shades..._

_Rating: PG (for adult talkage)  
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><p><em>Ladies' Reading Circle, 6:05pm, Valentine's eve night.<em>

Lisa wrinkled her nose at the snow falling in the street while she was warm inside Cafe Grumpy. Though she pretended to be grumpy at the approaching blizzard, she was more irritated by the late arrivals to their readers circle. This is New York! Everyone should be used to the snow, ice, and blizzards. Wimps.

"When do we read? Discuss the book?" Umeko griped from a bar stool, pointing down at the atrocity made out of paper. "They are five minutes late. Deny them entrance."

The barista walking behind the counter gave her a very strange, cold look.

Dressed like she was out of a Sex and the City winter episode, Lisa nodded her head in disapproval. "You were the one showing up an hour early."

Umeko's tail whipped behind the bar stool. "I risked my life to get here. I did not have to come here to be insulted!" She scratched the hardcover edition of '50 Shades of Grey'. "Miss James will get a strongly worded letter of my discontent..."

Only the barista and a homeless guy in the corner listened to the rest of Umeko's ramblings. When Lisa didn't respond, she demanded silence to write her complaint.

_6:35pm_

A lumpy snowman swaggered through the cafe door. Lisa sighed. "Emyrs, you live in a house full of CLOCKS. The cafe closes in an hour!" She stomped in her high heels to one of the three chairs, opening her book. "We're starting now. Umeko, put the pen down."

Pellets of snow popped and slushed on the floor as Emyrs shook off her third weatherly layer. "I have this crap everywhere, even up my anus. I need to scratch!"

Lisa ignored the latecomer and flipped through her paperback edition, all wrinkled and bent. "While the writing lacks sustenance, I felt very empowered by Steele's grace in handling such a complicated matter."

Umeko scoffed and leered in Lisa's direction. "I would have cut off his head."

Emyrs flopped in an empty seat, still brushing snow off her chest. "James wouldn't have much of a story if she did that, would she?" She opened her flip phone, dialed a number with her gloved hands, and sat it on the table. Someone answered after a ring and a half. "April, I made it."

"Hi, guys!" April's voice chirped in the small cafe. "I'm ready!"

Emyrs magically whipped out her book and removed a few liner notes. "Did this book make you feel empowered? Estastic? Horny? Or ashamed?"

Lisa waved her book to get Emyrs' attention. "We're in a public place. Keep it PG!"

Umeko scooted the bar stool next to the couch. "Hello, April. This is Umeko. I found it repulsive. Will you join me in protesting the movie?"

April moved the phone around on her end and said, "Umm... there were some things I liked about it."

Umeko hung her head. "I am alone. Defeated."

_7.01pm - 29 minutes from the cafe closing. The snow can be seen piling from the bottom of the outside window._

All of the women were talking at once:

"Grey LOVES her, okay? He is maturing, he is GROWING-"

"If that is the meaning of love, I denounce my existence. I am no longer a valid participate in this circle."

"Hey, it's unleashed my inner beast. Casey has had no complaints!"

"Do you think it's too late to order a taco down the street?"

Lisa threw up her hands. "OKAY- did we READ the same book? Em, can you talk about something else besides blizzards and tacos?"

"I discussed radiation poisoning at one point, but no one was listening. You want to know what I truthfully thought?"

Lisa's patience was on the edge but she accepted her fate. "Yes, enlighten us."

"It was boring. I read it halfway and turned on porn. She climaxes on every page. Grey says her name, and she's all 'OOHHHHHHHH'." A drunk giraffe sounded better than her fake orgasm. The homeless guy had already left and the barista sloshed coffee over himself. "She has no idea what American geography is either. She said 'jeez' eighty one times. I counted."

Umeko nodded in agreement.

"We're very impressed you can count, Miss Becker." Lisa feigned importance with a smirk. "Instead of picking at it like a child would its nose, could anyone in this circle give one positive review of this literature?"

Everyone looked around nervously. A bit of static nose bleeped from Emyrs' phone.

April finally said, "The movie is out this weekend?"

Lisa clapped her hands and tossed her brown curls over her shoulder. "Right then, my fellow readers. Which book do you recommend next?"

Umeko raised her hand. "I suggest with the current weather conditions, we learn survival. 'Consuming Grief: Compassionate Cannibalism in an Amazonian Society'..."


End file.
